


the mortal cup

by ninwrites



Series: Do I Dare Disturb The Universe? [13]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Coffee Shops, First Dates, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff and Humor, Lightwood sibling banter, M/M, Supportive Isabelle Lightwood, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, friends to boyfriends, ignore the lame title please, obligatory coffee shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: The one in which Alec owns a 'non-hipster' coffee shop, Magnus is pretty, and the fluff is strong enough to drown in.





	1. The Mortal Cup

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively known as the obligatory coffee shop AU that every ship needs. Somehow I haven't written one before, so here it is.

Alec never planned on owning a coffee shop.

He'd always thought he'd be an attorney, like his parents. And yet, here he is, twenty-three years old and proud owner of _The Mortal Cup_ in Lower Manhattan. Changing out of his law course into a business one, was not a choice easily accepted by his parents, but he's never once regretted it.

Running a business is hectic and stressful and he's never once gone to sleep hating it. It helps that he works with his friends (calling them employees just feels weird), lives with his sister, and has very few run-ins with horrible customers. The general mood of his shop is carefree, warm and homely - and very anti-establishmentarian. No corporate mass-produced anything in his shop. The coffee grounds are organic, he bakes everything fresh daily with locally sourced ingredients, and they have a _quid pro quo_ system with other local groups and businesses.

(His younger sister Isabelle often refers to him as a hipster, which he's not, he just refuses to give in to the expectations of major conglomerate businesses.)

It's not exactly the life that Alec had expected, but he's happy with how it turned out - far happier than he'd be if he had stuck to the wishes of his parents and not his own desires.

It's _his_ life, after all.

 

* * *

 

The bright fluorescent light floods the back of the shop. It's five am, giving Alec a few hours to bake the fresh goods for the day and clean up the shop before it's opening at eight - he'd tried opening up at an earlier time, but his profit was lower than his cost, so now the shop opens and closes later.

He washes his hands, ties on his flour-streaked black apron, and gets to work. His phone sits on an elevated stand Isabelle had bought him a few years ago, shuffling through his _'Baking'_ playlist - mostly calmer music, smooth and easy - The 1975; Arctic Monkeys; Bastille.

It's his quiet time.

He loves his sister, but living with her means living with an amateur detective who is overwhelmingly skilled at picking him apart, and the rest of his days are spent with the shop. It's a good, and happy life, but he needs his space, _his_ time.

In the time it takes the bowl of dough - for the coffee and cinnamon scrolls - to rise, he whips up two batches of muffins, one cherry and white chocolate and one blueberry and chia seeds, and slides them into the wide industrial oven. Then he rolls out the dough and finishes the scrolls, before moving on to the biscuit pastry for the fruit tarts.

Every now and then Alec likes experimenting, just slipping in a new cake or biscuit or muffin, to see if their customers like it, and to keep things interesting. At the moment, he's testing out apple coffee cake, as Isabelle had insisted he try out a new spiced syrup. So far, the customers seem to be liking it, and it's cooking time is an hour, perfect for the afternoon rush, once the other treats have begun to dwindle.

Alec has just finished kneading the scone dough - they bake everything from buttermilk and fruit to cheese - when the stainless steel door to the kitchen swings open. Isabelle grins and triumphantly holds up two large takeaway coffees. Alec can smell the bitter caffeine from his steel workstation.

"One hour to opening." Isabelle greets, handing one of the drinks over. "How are we looking?"

"Everything is set for the first rush," Alec brushes his flour-coated hands on his already streaked apron. "I'm going to have to duck back when it dies down around lunch to sort the cake out - you'll be able to handle the shop whilst I'm back here?"

Isabelle raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Don't I always?"

Alec nods. "I've yet to see otherwise."

"Exactly."

Alec sips at his steaming drink and sighs. It's his second cup, but it feels like his first. Isabelle's the best at making coffee, and the ones she makes for him always taste better than the ones he makes for himself, impossible though it seems.

"I'm going to set the tables up," Isabelle steps back. "Simon should be here any minute."

"Clary's shift doesn't start 'till one," Alec adds, before she goes. "And Jordan is coming in an hour later, today."

Isabelle nods, and then she's gone, the door swinging shut behind her.

Alec appreciates her help, he really does, but he feels bad that he's taking so much of her time out from her. She's studying a pre-med course _and_ helping him out, pretty much full time. Clary's studying too, at the Brooklyn Academy of Art, but it's a little easier for her to work on her breaks than it is for Isabelle.

(And Simon has his band, but they play at the shop anyway so he's the easiest to work around.)

He's tried resorting to flat-out firing her, and then when that didn't work, he refused to pay her, but Isabelle never once backed down. She still came in for work, even once working a whole week without pay, until Alec gave in and reimbursed her the week after.

It's a factor that only occasionally makes him feel old, that a lot of his employees are college students working to pay for food. Though he'd finished his course two years ago, he still remembers the stress of trying to keep up with studying, and keeping up a job - once he'd transferred his courses, his parents had refused to pay for anything more than just his course, because in their eyes if he was mature enough to make his own decisions then he was mature enough to pay for what he needed. They'd probably have refused to pay for his course if not for their obsession with their public appearance and what their aristocratic friends thought about them.

At the end of the day, though, he's doing something that he loves. He's learnt to stop giving a damn about what his parents think of him. It's not like it's ever done anything good for him.

 

* * *

 

"How's my favourite barista doing today?"

Alec's smiling before he realises, crossing into the front of the shop with a tray of freshly baked fruit scones. "Busy, as always."

The blinding grin he receives in response is uplifting. "Not that you'd have it any other way."

"Absolutely not."

Magnus Bane entered Alec's life around two years ago. They met a few weeks after Alec had opened the shop, a whirlwind of glittering fabric and shining eyes. He's loud and exuberant, his fashion choices just as flashy as his personality, and he's disimilar to Alec in many ways. Where Alec is quiet and rather unassuming, Magnus is enchanting, able to draw people in with a quick glance or a coy smirk.

He's also very flirty, which Alec has grown comfortable with over the progressing months they'd gotten to know each other.

Magnus owns Pandemonium, the popular nightclub a few blocks down, though he also owns a 'chic boutique' - his words - where he stocks clothing lines from lesser known designers, and a few of his own.

He's a regular at _The Mortal Cup_ \- regular meaning every day, ocassionally mutiple times a day.

"The usual?" Alec asks, wiping his hands on the teatowel hanging from his apron pocket.

"Large cappuccino with two shots of espresso and one caramel, one sugar, drop of cream." Magnus recites. "And, one of those delicious cherry and white chocolate muffins, please."

"Have here or takeaway?" Alec asks, because whilst he can usually rely on Magnus' order staying the same, how he has it changes often depending on Magnus' mood.

"Hm, have here." Magnus winks. "I thought I'd stay and chat for a bit."

The shop is in one of it's quieter spells. The apple coffee cake is cooling on a rack, there's a few customers here and there, the shop filled with the uneven sound of Simon and his band - currently Rock Solid Panda, though they change more than Alec changes specials - preparing for their afternoon set.

Alec bends and retrieves a porcelain plate and mug. Whilst the milk froths, he slides a muffin from the cake fridge and settles it atop a napkin on the plate.

"So, how has your day been so far?" Alec asks, conversationally, though he is genuinely interested in Magnus' answer.

"Oh, simply ghastly." Magnus grins. Can't be too ghastly, if he's smiling the way he is. Alec has seen him when his days really have been genuinely horrible.

"First, the Chairman woke me up by jumping on my head-" Chairman being Chairman Meow, his cat. "Which completely ruined my hair."

"Does your hair normally look good while you're sleeping?" Alec asks, his mind half on the conversation and half on making the coffee.

"Alexander," Magnus tuts. Alec used to hate the name, because it reminded him of his parents and that wasn't a happy thing to think about. Magnus has given it a nicer meaning.

"Do you know anything about me? Of course my hair looks _perfect_ when sleeping. There is never a time where my hair nor myself do _not_ look absolutely flawless." Magnus winks, he has a common tendency to do that, a lot, especially around Alec. It's just part of his personality.

"Forgive me," Alec replies sarcastically, a teasing note to his voice. "I don't know how I could make such a mistake."

He finishes off Magnus' coffee and hands it over. Magnus hands over the exact amount, and then dumps an extra five dollar note into the tip jar.

"I think I might check on young Sheldon," Magnus announces. "Feel free to drop past if you get a spare second."

"Will do." Alec grins back. There is just something about Magnus that is captivating. "And it's Simon."

Magnus smirks conspiratorily. "I know that."

Alec shakes his head and begins cleaning the coffee machine. He'll have to sort out the cake soon, but for now, he looses himself in the stray plucks of Simon's guitar and Magnus' soft laughter as he converses with Isabelle.

It fills him with a warmth of what home used to feel like.

 

* * *

 

The shop is closed Sundays - the only day it's not open - which is generally reserved as the day Alec gets the rest of his life sorted out.

He sleeps in - until seven, which despite what Isabelle says, is late for him. Then he heads out for his morning run, drinks his first coffee of the day, showers, picks up a piece of fruit or something similar for breakfast and tidies up the flat. It doesn't get that dirty, or cluttered, but Alec likes the peacefulness, the simplicity, that tidying up brings him.

Then he makes another two cups of coffee, one for him and one for Isabelle, who's usually up around ten. What happens for the rest of the day simply depends on what needs to be done or what he wants to do.

This particular Sunday, Alec doesn't have anything to do. Everyone had been paid the day before for the week, the apartment is clean, all of the errands Alec had needed to run had been completed during his break on Thursday evening when the pace of the shop had slowed down for a few hours.

"What are you going to do today?" Isabelle asks, cradling her cup of coffee and leaning against the breakfast bench.

She's only been awake for ten minutes, if that, and yet she already looks more put-together then Alec does, even having been awake for a few hours. He'd complain about the unfairness of it all, but it's something that's been happening for years, and he's gotten used to it.

"I have no idea." Alec admits. "I have a whole day off. I haven't had one of those in..."

"Months, at least." Isabelle fills in. "You should do something fun."

"Fun." Alec echoes. Fun. He has fun. He ... well, he ... he has fun.

"I don't think Jace is doing anything, maybe the two of you can, I don't know, go to a baseball game or something."

Isabelle's trying to help, which Alec appreciates, but it also feels like she's pitying him and that's the last thing Alec needs from his younger sister.

"I don't know, I'll see." Alec shrugs. "What about you?"

Isabelle grins brightly. "I have a date," She announces cheerfully.

Alec finds himself smiling too. "Simon finally asked you on a date?"

"Yeah," Isabelle nods giddily. "We're going to lunch and then a movie."

"I'm really happy for you, Iz." Alec heads to the sink to rinse his cup, dropping a kiss on her forehead as he passes.

"Thank you, big brother." Isabelle turns her head to face him. "You know, I'm sure I could-"

"I don't need you to set me up with anyone," Alec reminds her, not for the first time. "I'm fine. And besides, I'm too busy for a relationship."

"What about Magnus?" Isabelle asks. "You two seem pretty close. And he's _very_ attractive."

Alec grips the tap handle, boring a hole into his mug as he attempts to fight off the heat burning his cheeks.

"We're friends." Alec replies, his voice low and shallow.

He hears Isabelle make a faint, disbelieving noise behind him. He doesn't want to get into this right now. Sure Magnus is ... good-looking, and he's funny and nice but they are _just friends_. He doesn't want Isabelle getting the wrong idea and causing a situation that's just awkward for everyone.

"I might see if Jace wants to get a bite to eat." Alec states. He hasn't seen Jace in a while, what with his brother in the middle of a criminology course - he wants to be a police officer - and it would be nice to catch up with him.

"Have fun." Isabelle says.

Alec knows it won't be the last he hears of this, but for now, he's happy to let it go.

 

* * *

 

Lunch with Jace goes okay; Alec has to fend off questions about Clary every few seconds - why Jace simply doesn't just ask her out he doesn't know - but otherwise it's nice. They laugh and joke and Alec walks away feeling quite light.

And, arguably, light- _headed_ , because it's on his way back that he makes the impromptu decision to slip into Magnus' store.

 _Bane's Boutique_ is an airy, calm store, that always spells of cinnamon and sandalwood - a bit like Magnus himself, if Alec is being honest with himself. A shop where, time and time again, Alec has somehow found whatever he was looking for, even when he himself wasn't sure what that was.

A shop that almost feels as familair to him as his own.

The bell above the door announces his entrance in a twinkle of high notes, and Alec's quick eyes scan around the room, for any sign of the owner, or anyone else who could recognise him.

He's still not entirely sure what he's doing, but he's entered the store now, so he might as well make the most of the situation, and his free time. He begins to wander the store, eyes flickering over trinkets and tidbits and scarves and hats and bags.

He remembers, almost distantly, when his gaze catches on a small paintbrush pin, that Clary's birthday is coming up. The pin is lovely, a bronze handle with a dark flick of a brush, but he doesn't feel like enough. Sure, Clary is his employee - technically - but she's also his friend.

Unfortunately, Alec has never been too good at finding the right gifts, even in such a giving store. He idly picks up the pin, and then finds himself staring at it, as though the small brooch would direct him to another present.

"I'm sure that Biscuit will love that." A deep, rich voice states from behind him. Alec startles, but manages - he hopes - to pull himself together as he turns around.

Magnus is standing behind him, smile as bright as ever, with a sympathetic care in his eyes that speaks more than words could.

"I hope so." Alec says.

Magnus' eyes narrow slightly, the movement barely noticeable, though Alec catches it, simply because he's watching so clearly.

"But you're looking for something else." It's a statement, there's no question there to be answered. It's almost unnerving how much Magnus seems to understand about him.

"It just doesn't feel like enough for a birthday present," Alec explains, in fear that Magnus will take offence at Alec implying one of his products isn't good enough or something.

Magnus purses his lips, before holding up a bejeweled finger. "One moment."

Alec watches him, practically _dance_ away in the opposite direction of the store, his movements deliberate and graceful - and Alec may or may not be technically staring in that moment. He keeps not-staring until Magnus returns, his appearance shocking Alec out of his reverie.

"Here," Magnus returns with a thin, white notebook and a gleaming gold fountain pen.

Alec stares at the items, held within Magnus' long fingers - fingers which he tries not to focus on - and exhales slowly.

"They're perfect." Alec utters, surprise leaking into his voice without his notice. "Magnus - thank you."

Magnus' smile is radiant, as bright as the sun and just as hard to look at. "I'm glad you approve."

"Are you sure this is okay, don't - don't you..."

"Alexander if you're concerned about my having a gift for our dear Clary, I can assure you there is no need. I have the perfect gift already picked out for her - or, rather, a perfect gift." He hands the gifts over, and when their fingers brush lightly, a spark races up Alec's arm. It's invigorating and jolts straight to his heart.

"Thank you," Alec says, smiling lopsidedly. "I really appreciate your help."

"Anytime, Alexander, anytime."

Alec detects a hint of layers to Magnus' words, but doesn't want to look to far into something that simply isn't there. That would be greatly unhelpful.

"Let me ring this up for you," Magnus says, though he doesn't move.

"R-right. Of course." Alec nods jerkily, not moving either.

They stand there, just looking at each other, for a good few bated seconds - long enough that the air between them feels tense and charged yet miraculously light - until the bell above the door sounded, shattering the moment.

Though there'd been one.

Alec may not be sure of much, and he may not understand what it means, but he does know that there'd been something between them.

A spark, a deeper connection, _something_.

 

* * *

 

"I need you to make a coffee."

Alec looks up, reaching for a dish towel to wipe his hands on. 'Why?" He's in the middle of preparing lemon slice, he doesn't have time to make a coffee. That's why he pays Clary and Isabelle and Simon. That's why he has employees in general.

"Because Magnus is asking for you."

Alec's hands twist involuntarily, gripping the cloth between his fingers tightly. "He is?"

Isabelle's knowing eyes glint with intrigue. "He refuses to be served by anybody else, claims that he's happy to wait as long as he needs, providing that you're the one who serves him."

She rolls her eyes, though the gesture is fond and teasing. "I don't understand it personally, but you know what they say, the customer is always right and all that - well, crap."

Alec smiles idly. "He is one of our best customers."

"Mm." Isabelle hums, unfortunately not giving much else away. Alec gets the feeling that she knows something he doesn't - more than just what he's still trying to figure out himself. And it's infuriating.

Isabelle flutters her hands in a movement far more deliberate than it seems. "You go out there, I'll finish up in here."

Alec frowns, and inches subconsciously closer to the bench. "I'll only be five minutes, at the most, I just need to finish the base and slide it into the fridge to set."

"Alec-"

"Iz."

It's almost like a standoff in an old Western film. Isabelle stands on one side of the metal bench, hands placed delicately on her slim hips, Alec clutching his dishtowel on the other, hunched protectively over the beginnings of his lemon slice.

"You're being unreasonable." Isabelle states.

"May I remind you, Isabelle," Alec stands firm and unyeilding. "The last time I let you "finish up", you burnt the choux pastry for the eclairs."

"They weren't _burnt_ ," Isabelle retorts, raising her eyebrows incredulously. "I just made sure that they were definitely cooked."

"They were black." Alec replied _. "Black."_

Isabelle sighs exaggeratedly. "Fine. But you have to tell Magnus why you made him wait."

She stares at him, almost as though she's waiting for something, before she turns around and heads out the front.

Alec stares at the sticky biscuit base and sighs. It's hopeless.

 _He's_ hopeless.

"Ah, Alexander-" Magnus pauses mid-greeting, his eyebrows knitting together, his gaze locked on Alec's cheek.

"What?" Alec frowns.

"You've got something," Magnus leans across the counter, his delicate fingers brushing gently against Alec's cheek. Alec feels a blush spark at the point of contact, but he doesn't pull away.

"There." Magnus declares, pulling a napkin from the dispenser and wiping his hands on it. "You had some dough, on your face." He explains.

"Oh," Alec exhales. "Thank you."

The gesture surprises him, and Alec is left wavering on legs that were stronger before he'd walked out.

"You wanted a coffee," Alec states, remembering the whole point of him being there. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, I'll get right on it."

Magnus smirks, almost daringly. "I'm sure the wait will be worth it. But, yes, coffee would be lovely."

Alec nods, jerkily. He keeps running over what Isabelle had said, that Magnus had specifically asked for _him._

"So, how are you?" Alec asks conversationally. "How's the store?"

"I'm a lot better, now." Magnus admits, fiddling with one of his rings. Alec notes the gesture, but doesn't comment on it. "And the store is doing wonderfully - I assume. I'm yet to pop in today. But I'm sure that Lily has it under control."

"You've left the store under Lily's control?" Alec asks, pumping the caramel into Magnus' coffee. "I that really the best decision you could have made?"

Magnus laughs softly. It's a nice sound. Deep and rich and warm...

Alec huffs a curse and manages to stop the froth of the milk before it overflows. This is his job, he shouldn't be having such a hard time doing it.

"Lily is perfectly capable - my biggest concern isn't how she treats customers but rather how long it will take before she needs a _break_ from customers." Magnus winks playfully.

"I get it," Alec's had his fair share of rude and awkward encounters with customers. "It's partially why I prefer to stay out the back. It's much more peaceful and comfortable."

"Ah, yes, where the magic happens." Magnus leans in close - if he gets any closer he'll burn himself on the coffee machine. "Though I imagine, not the only place."

Alec splutters and offers a weak smile. He's never been good at flirting - or reacting to somebody flirting with him, though Magnus seems to make a habit of flirting with Alec at every chance he gets.

Alec hands the coffee over, their hands brushing too firmly to be anything but deliberate when Magnus hands over the money to pay.

"There you go," Alec announces. "I hope you enjoy."

"I can't see why I wouldn't." Magnus smiles.

Alec's about to return out the back - the base for his lemon slice is waiting in the fridge, and if he doesn't finish making it, the slice won't be ready for the afternoon rush - when Magnus calls out his name.

"Is something wrong with the coffee?" Alec asks, on instinct. "I can make you another one, free of charge-"

"The coffee is absolutely wonderful, Alexander." Magnus assures him, smiling a little sheepishly. "I actually had a question I wanted to ask you."

Alec frowns, but turns back. "What is it?"

Magnus shifts his weight, his cheeks lighting up with a blush that on anybody else Alec would claim as shy.

"I was wondering if you were busy, tonight?"

"Tonight?" Alec echoes.

It's a Thursday - which means an afternoon rush that ends by five and an unlikely chance of being busy the remaining few hours. He usually stays behind though, to prep early so that he has less to do the next day, as Fridays are one of his busiest days and he often spends more time out the front than out the back.

"If you're busy I completely understand-"

"No, I - why?" He can't move past his curiosity.

"I wanted to take you out." Magnus states, the confident spark back in his eyes. "On a date."

A date. Magnus wants to take him on a date.

"I'm sure I can work things out." Isabelle will surely take over for him, if he asks her. Of course he'll have to endure her teasing but it might be worth it.

"Wonderful. I'll pick you up, say, seven?"

If Alec convinces Simon to bake a few batches of muffins, he'll have enough time to get ready for his date - his date with _Magnus_ \- and have enough prep done for the morning. He'll just have to ask Isabelle to help him get ready, or something, so then she won't try and interfere with the baking.

"Sounds great." Alec smiles giddily. He's still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Magnus wants to date him.

It's been a while since he's been on a date. He's kind of excited.

 

* * *

 

"I don't know how to do this."

"Alec. Relax."

Alec flicks through the clothes hanging in his cupboard for the third time in a row. This is ridiculous. How can he not find anything suitable to wear? Why is it all so hard?

"I have _thirty minutes_ before Magnus picks me up. I have nothing to wear..." Alec throws his hands up despondently. "I'm screwed."

Isabelle gently nudges him aside. "Fix your hair. I'll find you something."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Alec asks, not that he whines or pouts or anything.

"There's flour in it, for one." Isabelle points out, still facing the cupboard. "And you wear it the same every day. It would be nice if you changed it up a little. For Magnus."

Alec huffs and crosses into his bathroom. His hair looks fine. There's not even that much flour, and besides, there's nothing wrong with the way he styles it. Still. Magnus always looks so nice and fabulous and pretty and-

He runs his fingers through it a few times, trying to 'fix it' as Isabelle had put it.

"Try this on."

Isabelle hands over a dark blue denim button-up, with folded sleeves and a pressed collar. It's nice, and a shirt that he does like, though he doesn't often get the chance to wear it.

He manages to usher Isabelle off, in the search for 'the perfect shoes', and changes into the fancier shirt. It fits him well, hugging his arms and resting against his stomach. Alec fiddles with the buttons and analyses himself in the mirror. He looks okay. He's fairly good-looking, and the shirt makes his eyes look brighter and he shaved yesterday, so his jaw looks clean and fresh and-

He's not as handsome as Magnus, by any means, but Alec thinks he scrubs up okay, all things considered. And Magnus did ask him out during the middle of the work-day, so his expectations surely can't be too high.

Isabelle hands him a tight pair of black jeans from behind the door, and when he steps out, freshly dressed in a nice outfit, she's waiting with a proud smirk and a pair of black combat boots.

"See, I can respect your distaste of colours." Isabelle announces.

Alec glares at her childishly, his nose twitching. "I like colours. I just don't like wearing them."

Isabelle rolls her eyes. She flattens down his collar, although the movement seems more to reassure them both than because something is wrong.

"How are you feeling?" She asks.

"Nervous," Alec admits. "But - in sort of a good way, you know? I'm excited too, I'm just also ... terrified."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Isabelle assures him, her eyes boring into his. "So long as you don't let it stop you from enjoying yourself."

Alec nods, curtly. "Do I look okay?" He asks, because he's just about had enough of talking about his feelings.

"You look great," Isabelle promises. "Alec, I am so proud of you."

"Yeah?" Alec smiles shyly. He's kind of proud of himself too - for pushing through his own fears.

"Absolutely." Isabelle kisses his cheek, gently. "Have a wonderful time tonight - just text me if you won't be home."

Alec shakes his head fondly. "I doubt it. But, fine. If something happens, I'll let you know. I promise."

Isabelle's grin is unfairly pleased. Alec would probably care if he had more than a minute before Magnus was due to arrive, and take him wherever it is he has planned for their night.

 

* * *

 

Magnus refuses to tell Alec where they're going, simply ushers him into the backseat of a waiting cab and tells him to enjoy the ride. It's a little irritating at first, because Alec prefers to be in control, to know everything because he hates the feeling of being unprepared. He prefers predictability and surety over spontaneity.

But then he chides himself, because Magnus had asked him out on a date and put thought into the date - the least Alec can do is enjoy himself. So he slips his hand into Magnus' and smiles, allowing his excitement to wash away most of his nerves.

He's still concerned about doing something stupid or messing something up, because it's been a depressingly long time since he went on a date, and knowing his luck his already sub-par attempts at flirting will spiral even further downhill; but he's trying to cling to what little hope he has left because he really does want to have fun.

He just has to ignore his rather crippling awkwardness around people he really likes in public and visible settings.

"Alec?"

Alec blinks back into reality, and then glances over at Magnus sheepishly. Magnus is looking at him, smiling amusedly - Alec gets the sinking feeling that Magnus has been waiting for a while.

"I'm sorry," Alec tries to ignore the steady heat creeping up his neck. "I was, distracted."

Magnus' mouth pulls up into a tight smirk. "I'm sure. I just asked you if you were okay - you seem a little tense."

"I'm fine," Alec answers on reflex. Magnus squeezes the hand that is holding Alec's. "I just - I'm not that good at this, you know, at the whole-" Alec waves his spare hand in a vague gesture. "The dating thing."

Magnus flips their hands, his fingers toying with Alec's idly. "I think you're doing wonderfully."

"Really," Alec stares up at Magnus through soft, half-lidded eyes.

"Absolutely." Magnus lifts their hands, and presses a gentle, fleeting kiss on the ridge of Alec's knuckles. "And, if I haven't said it before - you look beautiful tonight, Alexander."

The blush creeps higher up Alec's neck, but Magnus thankfully doesn't mention it, though the spark in his eyes appears brighter.

"You look ... well, you always look great, but now, you look," Alec swallows. "Incredible."

Magnus does look incredible. He's decked out in slim purple jeans, sparkling silver ankle boots and a lace black overshirt atop a tight midnight button-up. Not to mention his impeccable makeup, elegant eyeliner, shimmering purple eyeshadow and a dusting of glitter over his cheeks, his lips painted with a gleaming pink gloss that makes it very hard for Alec to resist pressing his own lips against them. His hair is styled in blonde-tipped curls that fall over his forehead, and flick against the snake cuff on his ear.

Alec has always thought that Magnus was beautiful, but seeing him tonight, dressed for their date ... he feels bad that he didn't put _more_ effort into it.

"Thank you, darling." Magnus' smile is gentle, and feels almost secretive and reserved in it's nature.

"So ... where are we going?"

Magnus laughs softly, and shakes his head. "My apologies, Alexander, but I'm not going to tell you. You'll just have to wait and enjoy the ride."

As annoyed as Alec is, he thinks he could enjoy the ride - or at the very least, enjoy the hand that is pressed against his own.

 

* * *

 

Out of all the places Alec had imagined Magnus would take him - his apartment wasn't one of them.

He feels, humbled in a sense, that Magnus is allowing Alec to see his apartment. He's always thought that a person's apartment says a lot about them - his own apartment is a cluster of the few items he owns and his sister's endless flood of belongings - being allowed to see into Magnus' is a little more intimate than he'd expected from their first date.

He's not complaining by any means. In all honesty, he should probably be more used to Magnus taking him by surprise and shattering any and all of his expectations.

They pause outside the door, Magnus' hand still holding Alec's. It's nice.

"I feel as though I must point out," Magnus sounds, shy, to a degree, though he hides it well. "I didn't bring you to my home for ... I wanted to make you dinner, because you always make such delicious things, and I thought it would be nice, for once, if somebody else made something for you."

Alec's heart does a funny, flippy thing in his chest, and for a fleeting moment, he can't breathe.

"That's, wow Magnus, that's - that's really thoughtful. Thank you."

Alec is still working on believing what Magnus has just said, as Magnus leads them through the door. He doesn't think anyone has ever gone to the lengths to do something nice for him, not in a while, at least. Sure, people have done nice things, here and there, but not like this, nothing so big or thoughtful.

Alec wonders if his heart will ever stop skipping, or if he'll just have to get used to the off-kilter beating.

Magnus gestures to the seats at the breakfast bar, smiling kindly. "Please, have a seat. Dinner will be ready shortly."

Alec allows a low, short laugh to escape, as he settles himself on the seat. Magnus' charm is almost contagious, it's lifting his own spirits higher. "What's on the menu?" He asks, playing along, as Magnus dances around the kitchen."

"Well, our specials today are a trio of dips and flatbread," Magnus whirls around, a flat wooden board in hand, three white pots of brightly coloured dip balancing precariously on the top.

"Then," He adds, placing the board down. "Some delicious fettuccine alfredo - my own special recipe - with garlic bread sections and _then_ , if you want, I was thinking we could have some of those delectable shortbread biscuits you make so well."

Alec stifles for a second. Magnus is looking at him, expectantly, as though he's waiting to hear what Alec thinks about the menu, but all Alec can think about is the effort and thought and time that went into this.

"How did you keep your kitchen from burning?"

Alec could have told Magnus that it all sounded great, that he really appreciated everything Magnus was doing, but no, instead Alec blurts out a ridiculous question - this is why he doesn't date. He's not a 'hopeless romantic', as Isabelle puts it.

He's just hopeless.

Magnus laughs, and the sound is so surprising that it jerks Alec out of his self-deprecation. "I had a neighbour check in for me. I didn't want to burn anything, naturally, but I thought if I had it ready when I brought you here - it would impress you."

Alec leans forward, his elbows resting on the marble bench surface. "You didn't need to go that far to impress me."

Magnus shrugs, the hints of shyness returning. Alec wonders what could be bringing such a reaction from such a usually exuberant man. "I wanted to."

Alec wishes he was the kind of person who could jump up and round the corner, up to Magnus, and just kiss him. Pull him in and press their lips together, maybe inching Magnus back a few steps, until his back hits the bench...

But Alec isn't that confident. So instead, he offers Magnus a soft smile, hoping that his gratitude is expressed through his expression. Even if he does wish he could grab Magnus and kiss him.

"Thank you," He whispers. It's not enough, but for now, it's something.

**-**

Alec leans back on the couch, letting out a low huff of breath. Besides him, in an equally satiated position, Magnus laughs softly, low and amusing.

"Oh, man." Alec groans. He's pleasantly stuffed, and he really doesn't want to move, because moving just sounds plain inconvenient.

"I'm presuming you enjoyed it, then?" Magnus asks, humour carrying his voice. Alec turns his head, and Magnus is just there, just _right there._ Close enough to touch, if he wants to.

"Are you kidding me?" Alec watches Magnus' smile widen. "I think that was the best meal I've had in, months, if not ever. I'm pretty sure I ate too much, and I don't even regret a thing."

Magnus blinks, and for a moment Alec is distracted by the flutter of long eyelashes against glittery cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I was a little concerned it wouldn't taste well, and I'd end up scaring you off with my horrific cooking."

Alec smiles. His hand is resting on the couch, and although he doesn't really want to move, he does manage to summon the strength to slide it over, until it's resting atop Magnus'.

"You had nothing to worry about," He says, linking his fingers with Magnus'. There's a slight moment of awkwardness, when Alec is trying to fit his fingers around Magnus' rings, but they end up slotting together just fine. Better than fine, actually. Something akin to perfect.

"Partly, because I grew up escaping from Isabelle's cooking, so - between you and me - there is nothing _you_ could make, that would taste worse. And, because," Alec glances down at their joined hands. "Well, because I want to be here too much for you to scare me off."

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that," Magnus whispers. There's no extra- _anything_ to his voice. It's soft and honest and pure.

Alec tilts his head, until his and Magnus' foreheads are touching, though barely. "About as glad as I am to be here." He assumes.

Magnus hums, and lifts their hands, staring at them as though the sight both confuses and excites him. Alec understands the feeling. His own body is thrumming with an electric current of anticipation and contentment. Being so close to Magnus, with the possibility of more hanging in the air around him, sends his heart racing, but at the same time, he wouldn't mind just staying like this until the point where he absolutely has to go home.

Although, at the moment he's enjoying himself a little too much to even consider going home.

"Alexander," Beneath all the bold makeup and the glitter and his natural air of confidence, Magnus is unsure. It's heartwarming. "How come you never asked me out?"

It's not what Alec had been expecting. Unfortunately, this leads him to stutter out a faint response. "I - I don't know, I guess - I never really thought you'd be into me, I mean-"

"Alec," Magnus interrupts gently. "I'm sorry, but that is ridiculous. How could I not be into you?"

He shifts, and uses his free hand to gesture widely at the length of Alec's body. "What is not to be into? Your lovely personality, your kind eyes, your charming selflessness or your, frankly gorgeous body? Your tousled hair, your delightful talent at baking, your dedication to everything you care about..."

"Okay, okay," Alec says, laughter tracing his voice - he hasn't laughed like this in a while. It's a nice feeling. "I get your point. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be." Magnus waves his apology off. "I got the pleasure of planning our first date. Which, might I add, was well worth the wait."

Alec's mind catches on the 'first' part. "Does that mean I get to plan the next one?"

Magnus shrugs, his lips pulling into a coy smirk. "Does that mean there's going to be another one?"

"I hope so." Alec answers, blunt and honest as ever.

Magnus' expression softens. "Me too."

It's not entirely clear who moves in first - one minute they're sitting there, hands locked, eyes futtering, and then the next, their lips are brushing together in achingly slow movements, warm and caressing. They keep their hands together, almost as an anchor, and slowly, carefully, inch closer. Alec's free hand slides up Magnus' chest, trailing over the curve of his shoulder, up into his hair, scraping lightly against the back of his neck.

Magnus smiles into the kiss, his own hand resting on Alec's knee, firm but not painful. His mouth envelopes Alec's bottom lip, and Alec lets himself melt into the kiss willingly. Here, and there, something will get in the way - the awkward bump of their noses, the knock of their chins or the slight clacking of teeth - but it doesn't stop them. If anything, it spurs them on, encourages them to tilt their heads or pull back or push forward, trying new positions that feel comfortable.

Alec pulls back for air first, his nose still pressed against Magnus'. Magnus' breath ghosts across his mouth, warm and shaken, and Alec offers a bright smile before leaning back in, capturing Magnus' mouth in a kiss a little more heated than the last.

One thing must be mentioned: in Alec's admittedly _fairly_ biased opinion, Magnus is a wonderful kisser. He's gentle and careful and he kisses like nobody else Alec has ever touched lips with. His praise could be stemming from the erratic pace of his heart, or the rush of ecstatic emotions flooding him. Or just because Magnus is someone he really, really likes, who cooked him a wonderful dinner and provided insightful conversation and who is one of the most genuine people Alec has ever met.

Either way. Alec doesn't want to stop kissing him. Ever.

 

* * *

 

"Morning, beautiful."

Alec stares at Magnus in astonished wonderment. He has flour in his hair, thanks to a miscalculation concerning a rather large ball of dough and a dusty countertop, and there's a faint darkness beneath his eyes that make him look like he's been punched by miniature fists. His black shirt is streaked with who-knows-what, and his fingers are stained purple from an accident with exploded bluberries.

It's also only ten in the morning.

"I have to disagree." Alec replies, frowning. Magnus looks far too cheery for ten in the morning. Alec isn't even sure he's seen Magnus before eleven.

"Well, that's too bad." Magnus leans in, arms resting on the bench. The shop is relatively quiet. Ovens are full. Alec has some time to chat.

"Is it?" Alec asks, teasingly. He straightens the small Specials Board on the counter. He hates it when people don't have any care for other people's property.

"Yes." Magnus declares. He looks amused and a little peeved - it's an interesting combination. "Because _I_ think you're beautiful. And as an American citizen, I have the right to have whatever opinions I so desire. Therefore, darling, it is my opinion that you are beautiful."

Magnus looks extremely pleased with himself. Alec can't fight off his own smile - he doubts he'd be able to even if he wanted.

"You're ridiculous." Alec states. He should know better than to be surprised, though. He and Magnus have been dating for just over a month, and winding arguments like that are one of Magnus' specialties. Amongst many things.

"Perhaps." Magnus leans in further, until he's practically hanging over the counter. Alec watches him curiously, and then, just because he wants to, he takes a slow, deliberate step backwards.

"Alexander, you are being completely unfair." Magnus declares, pouting. It's rather adorable. "Why won't you kiss me hello?"

"Because we've already said hello." Alec says. "And technically, we kissed hello this morning."

"That was _five_ hours ago, Alexander. I fell asleep after you left. And, as your caring, doting boyfriend, I would like another hello kiss."

Alec stares, for long enough that he feels Magnus is sufficiently annoyed, before stepping forward and pressing a chaste kiss against Magnus' lips. "Hello."

Magnus glares half-heartedly. "That isn't what I meant." He leans back, sighing dramatically. "Fine, fine, have your way."

Alec laughs softly, moving to the coffee machine. "You're like a petulant child." He states, preparing Magnus' coffee. "Worse than, arguably."

Magnus gasps, dramatically feigning hurt. "I cannot believe you. You know what, I might just need to bump Isabelle up - how would you feel being the second-best Lightwood?"

"I probably wouldn't care." Alec admits, pulling a porcelain mug and plate from the cupboard below. "Isabelle's always attracted more attention than I have - not in a bad way, just in general."

"Ah," Isabelle, apparently having perked at the sound of her name, sweeps in behind the counter. "But I am not the one Magnus is sleeping with. Hello, Magnus, how are you?"

Alec startles, almost burning his fingers on the hot metal. A heated flush tickles the back of his neck, and he directs his sole attention on finishing off Magnus' coffee.

"I'm delightful, Isabelle - though your brother is trying to bring me down by calling me hurtful names. How are you?"

Alec lets himself drift out of the conversation, focusing on the task at hand. He slides open the cake fridge and slips a chocolate croissant onto the plate. He likes that his sister and his boyfriend get along, but that doesn't mean he has to like it when they're talking about him.

Alec walks back into the conversation just as Isabelle and Magnus are discussing the pros and cons of labcoats. He always seems to come back right when their conversation turns weird.

"Here." Alec slides the plate over, before placing the mug down next to it. "My apology in baked form."

Magnus smiles, and reaches for his pocket. Before he can pull any money out, Alec's hand shoots out, his fingers wrapping around Magnus' wrist. "Don't." He says. "It's on the house."

Magnus stares at him, before taking Alec's hand, the one wrapped around his wrist, and presses a light kiss against the ridge of Alec's knuckles.

"Thank you," He says. There's a mischevious twinkle in his eyes, the kind that used to scare Alec, but now just amuses and excites him. It's what having Magnus Bane as a boyfriend does for a person.

"Just shut up and drink your coffee." Alec says, laughter bleeding into his tone. "Or this will be the last time."

"Is that a threat?" Magnus asks, winking.

Alec shakes his head. "Sit down. You're holding up my business."

"Honey," Magnus steps backwards, taking his breakfast with him. "I am your business."

"Don't make me kick you out of my store." Alec teases. "I haven't blacklisted a customer yet, but I'll do it to you."

"You wouldn't," Magnus turns, his hip resting against his table - closest to the counter, where he always sits. "You love me too much."

The words fall out, and then they're just there, hanging in the air, unable to be taken back.

Alec doesn't hesitate. "Yeah, I do."


	2. +1 An Unexpected Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'thanks to a miscalculation concerning a rather large ball of dough and a dusty countertop' - request from your favourite reader (ha, look at me, flattering myself over here, ignore me, I am obviously joking) for an expansion on this...Like...what exactly caused this? Simon distracting him? Izzy interrogating him about Magnus? Alec thinking about Magnus and not paying attention to what he's doing? The possibilities are endless (because come on, schoolboy error, Alec wouldn't just *make* that kind of 'miscalculation') ___
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> _\--_  
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> _or the one in which vulturemonem inspires a slew of extra scenes._  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to add this. 
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> I was just going to write a little thing and slip it in the comments. Until this monster of a drabble happened. Seems I am more invested in this than I first believed. My ever-lasting thanks to vulturemonem for requesting this. I hope this fits what you wanted. <3
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> \--
> 
> Takes place just before the last scene of the oneshot itself.

It feels downright torturous to have to leave Magnus' arms. He'd stayed over at Alec's apartment the night before, because Isabelle was on a date with Simon and therefore free of the apartment. They'd watched Whiplash with leftover apple strudel and Magnus had ended up with his head tucked into Alec's chest by the end of the movie.

Magnus kept insisting that he wasn't scared, he just liked Alec's quote-unquote 'firm, handsome chest'. Alec thinks that it might be a little bit of both, truthfully, but he didn't mention anything.

They'd kissed on the couch, because apparently that's just something they do these days, casually make out on the same furniture that last year Alec hid behind to save himself from Isabelle throwing a cupcake at his head - he'd made the mistake of commenting on her cooking skills.

A mistake he has learnt to never make again without a barrier or ample ammunition of his own.

Eventually they'd headed to bed and fallen asleep - Alec had been the little spoon - and everything was warm and comfortable and sweet. And now Alec has woken up to his obnoxiously loud alarm, Magnus having just groaned sleepily and requested he 'kindly shut it off'.

The bed is so warm. Magnus' arms are so - safe, and nice and if Alec could stay there for even just another hour, he'd be happy. Perfectly content.

But no, he has to get out of the bed. Because a few years ago he made the naive decision to start up his own coffee shop. What a ridiculous idea, how he could have been so foolish he'll never know.

He drags himself out of bed, his movements slow and lethargic. Magnus rolls over to the middle of the bed, the soft blue sheets pooled at his waist, one foot sticking out from beneath. His face is soft and passive and his hair is all fluffed and messy, and Magnus looking so damn adorable while sleeping is not something Alec thinks he'll ever get sick of.

He quickly makes himself a to-go cup of mildly hot coffee - he's making blueberry tarts today and he needs all the free hands he can get, having a delicate porcelain cup with hot coffee is _not_ something he needs.

When Alec is getting dressed, his normal black shirt and jeans combo, Magnus mumbles something near inaudible beneath his breath. It sounds a little like Alec's name, but he doesn't catch the rest of the sentence. Despite that, it is enough to spark a flame of affection in the center of his chest.

He presses a chaste kiss to Magnus' lips, another softer one on the top of his boyfriend's head before he heads downstairs, internally delighted at the gentle hum that slips from between Magnus' half-parted lips. He's just _that_ cute it is actually unfair.

Unfair for Alec's customers. Because if Magnus keeps him from getting downstairs, it's them who get the short end of the deal. They don't get fed if Alec isn't there to make the food for them.

They really need to discuss this whole 'staying the night' arrangement. Maybe it isn't the best idea for them to stay at Alec's. Their intial thought process had been that Magnus' apartment is further away, and therefore it just made more sense for them to stay at Alec's.

Sure, he's closer to work. But that just makes it harder for him to leave.

Simon is the first to enter the shop, Isabelle trailing behind him. She doesn't look too happy about being awake either, which makes Alec to feel a little better.

Simon on the other hand looks like sunrise incarnate and Alec kind of wants to slap him just a little. It's not right for someone to be so bright and happy and _awake_ at six in the morning.

(Maybe Alec is a little bitter. And maybe he's only had one coffee this morning. And maybe he still doesn't see how getting up early was worth it.)

"Greetings, Alexander!" Simon shouts.

Alec fixes him with the deepest glare he possibly can. "You don't get to call me that."

Isabelle smirks and heads towards the coffee machine. Simon pouts, leaning his guitar against the side of the stage-ish area. Alec continues wiping down the counters and pretending that for one moment in his life his baby sister didn't decide to date Simon Lewis of all people.

"How come?" Simon actually looks upset. "You let Magnus call you that."

Alec rolls his eyes. "Magnus is my boyfriend. You are a dark spot on my workbench I can't seem to scrub off."

He tries to ignore the fact that aforementioned boyfriend is upstairs, sleeping peacefully in a nice, soft bed _without_ a shirt on.

Simon's eyes widen in what Alec assumes is supposed to be sadness. "Alec, I can't believe you would wound me like that. I thought we were friends."

Alec frowns. "In what universe would we be friends, Simon?"

Something comes over Simon, and then he's smirking and Alec doesn't understand why. He glances at Isabelle for clarification, but she simply grins sharply at him from behind the coffee machine. His sister, apparently, isn't going to be of much help.

"In my dreams." Simon replies, and Alec is that surprised that it actually takes him a full second before he groans, ducking his head into his hands.

"Simon, either set up, or shove off." He mumbles between his fingers. "I am too tired to bother with you today."

Simon shakes his head, eyeing Alec with what can't be anything else but fond amusement. "See," He calls to Isabelle, as Alec walks off. "I told you he loved me."

"Of course he does." Isabelle nods slowly, her lips pressed together to keep in her laughter. Alec knows the expression well.

Simon straightens, quite pleased with Isabelle's response. He starts rearranging the chairs, and Alec is quite frankly too busy to tell him off. He still has the tarts to work on, and apple turnovers for the lovely ladies who come in around eleven for their morning tea, who specifically request his 'delicious pastries'.

Those ladies are quite nice, sometimes they call him out to chat and pinch his cheeks like they're all his grandmother, and if Magnus is in the room they comment on how cute they look together, and how happy they are for Alec.

Maybe he can pretend to be busy to skip out on them today. They're great, they are, but hearing about what a 'good young man' he is simply exhausts him. And he does have a job to do, which these ladies seem to forget sometimes. Alec doesn't quite get how, but then again, he's never claimed to understand people, either.

Alec darts past Isabelle, picking up a large cardboard cup of coffee on his way, and heads to the back room to begin his baking routine.

 

* * *

 

Alec is busy trying to clean the blueberry juice of his fingers when Isabelle walks in, plopping herself on a stool near the side of the bench. Alec can't remember the stool being there - did Isabelle carry it in? He must be just having a bad day.

"What did you do this time?" Isabelle asks, because she has tact and isn't blunt in any way.

"Exploded blueberries." He explains. Laying the blueberries is a delicate process, which Alec, with his large, bulky hands, finds diffucult. He did get there eventually, but not without casualties.

The purple doesn't seem to be coming off. He doesn't have the patience for this. He slams the tap down, and turns to his sister, who's watching him with narrowed eyes.

"I think you're losing your touch, big brother." Isabelle tuts. "You used to be so good. What happened?"

Alec glares, wiping his hands on an already cocoa-streaked dishcloth. "Shut up."

"Is it Magnus?" Isabelle asks, innocently. Alec's glare hardens, the dishcloth gripped tightly in his hands. "He's upstairs, right?"

Alec sighs, using the cloth to wipe down the bench. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't." Isabelle shakes her head, stroking a circle in a floured patch. "I'm not stupid, Alec. I know he stayed here last night."

Alec parts his mouth, and then shuts it again promptly. He doesn't want to ask her how she's come to the conclusion, because he's sure that he's not going to like the answer. He continues vigorously wiping the bench, even though it's clean. The tarts are in the oven, the apple turnovers cooling on a rack. Judging by the fact that Isabelle is here, the front can't be too busy, either. He has a few minutes.

"Magnus sent me a photo last night of you arranging apple strudels on a plate." Isabelle explains. "The caption was very sweet. You guys are actually so cute together it's a little disgusting."

Alec stares at her. He doesn't know why he's surprised, not really. It's perfectly in character, for both of them, he knows that Magnus and Isabelle text each other a lot, and every now and then they go shopping which usually saves Alec from having to go along, though not always. He doesn't mind that they're friends, he likes it, because it's nice that his boyfriend and his sister get along.

It's just - do they have to get along _that well?_

"How is it going with you guys? Said the big 'L' word yet, or are you saving it for a special occasion?" Isabelle leans forward, dark eyes blinking curiously.

"Get your elbows off my work space." Alec chastises. His head is muddled and his thoughts sticky and sluggish, like he's wading through corn syrup. He heads to the frige, pulling out the closest egg carton. He can't remember what he's supposed to be making next, Isabelle clouding his thoughts with her stupidly intuitive inferences.

 _Muffins._ White chocolate and cherry muffins. Not because they're Magnus' favourites. Just because they're a good seller.

"No, we haven't said it yet." Alec admits, searching the space below the bench for the right size metal bowl. "I don't know why I'd tell you if we had."

Isabelle rolls her eyes. "Because you love me, duh." She taps her black nails against the metal surface. "And because you wouldn't be able to keep something like that to yourself."

Alec huffs, but doesn't reply. He wouldn't be able to without lying.

Isabelle's quiet for a moment, and Alec is grateful because it gives him the chance to work. It's only once he's started stirring in the chocolate chips that the relative silence is broken.

"Do you feel it?" Isabelle asks. Alec doesn't ask her what she means, he knows exactly what she's talking about.

"I really don't have the time to deal with this, Iz." It's a weak excuse, but one he is sticking to.

"Alec-"

"Please." Alec glances up, hating the desperation that carries his tone. "I'm really busy."

Isabelle stares at him, in that scrutinising way where she picks and peels at every wall he's trying to keep sturdy, leaving him cowering behind the crumbled wreckage. His heart clenches in his chest, and he just - he doesn't want to think about it. If he thinks about it, he'll probably know the answer.

But what if his answer is different to Magnus'? Alec can't take that risk, everything is so good at the moment, and he doesn't want it to change. If he thinks about it, if he knows, if Magnus knows, it might change.

"Okay." Isabelle pulls back, hopping gracefully off the stool. "I'll leave you to it."

Alec knows that Isabelle is only trying to help, and he appreciates it. But he can't deal with those kind of self-reflective thoughts at the moment. He has work to do, thoughts like that are reserved for the shower and just before he goes to sleep when he can't gt his mind to shut up.

"Thank you."

 

* * *

 

Alec's been working in his coffee shop for years, _years_ , and by this point he knows what he's doing fairly well. He could probably do it blindfolded, if he was stupid enough to try, and still bake well enough to sell.

So how come one tiny conversation with his sister has sent him spiralling? He hasn't ruined anything, but there have been a few close calls. He almost lost a tart while trying to stack them neatly on the cooling rack, because he couldn't stop thinking about Isabelle's words - the harder he tried to concentrate, the more out of control his thoughts swirled.

He's lucky that Clary's already taken the apple turnovers out the front, because he probably would have knocked them and slipped or something, knowing how badly his concentration is.

It's ridiculous, he usually has so much clear cut control, he pushes everything else out of his head and focuses solely on the task at hand. Anything that doesn't have to do with his work isn't important enough to stay, he can leave it until later, to a time where he isn't busy.

Today, that doesn't seem to be a possibility.

It hadn't even been this bad after his first date with Magnus. Sure, he'd been thinking about it a lot, but his work wasn't affected, not this badly.

 _"Do you feel it?"_ Does he? Does he feel - that, that big, unmentionable feeling, does he feel that for Magnus?

Hypothetically, if he does ... is it too soon? If he does feel that, and it is appropriate, does it even matter if Magnus doesn't feel it back?

Alec groans and drags a floury hand through his hair, only realising after the fact what he's done. Clary ducks in to the back room at that precise moment, just in time to see Alec crumble.

"I love that look on you."

Clary isn't like Isabelle, or Simon. She takes him at face-value, but doesn't press for answers, she waits for him to speak up if and when he wants to. Sure, she teases him, but honestly, who in his life doesn't?

Alec rolls his eyes, but it's fond - well, fond-ish, it is Clary after all.

"Quirks of having a boyfriend in the fashion industry?" Clary asks, darting behind him to start transferring the tarts onto a tray.

"I don't think Magnus would be all that impressed, actually." Alec admits. He shakes some flour onto the bench and starts spreading it out, figuring that he's already got it in his hair, it doesn't really matter by this point where else he gets it.

Clary laughs soundly, Her tone, when she replies, is full of mirth. "Truthfully, I must disagree."

Alec glances at her over his shoulder. She's standing, half the tarts on the rack, half on the tray, her grin somewhat reserved. "Come on. You, all rumpled and flour-covered - I'm not Magnus, by any means, but I can't see him having _any_ problem with it."

Alec tries to glare at her, he summons every angry ounce of heat that he can, but some part of him thinks that he's failed. Because now he's imagining what Magnus' reaction _could_ be, and none of the options are really working out for him. They're all annoyingly distracting images.

He seriously just needs to get a damn grip on himself.

"How is it out there?" He asks, because he needs a distraction, and considering that work is what he really needs to be focusing on, it seems like a good place to start.

"Not too busy." Clary turns, tray in hand. "Simon's got this low, mellow feel going on that's keeping everyone really content, but there seems to be a steady flow of people coming in and out."

"So you don't need my help?" Alec hates leaving everything to his employees. He knows that's what he pays them for, but at the end of the day, it is his business, and therefore his responsibility.

"Nope." Clary pops the word, as though that will convince Alec. "You can probably take a break. We've still got enough out there, so long as no bus-loads of people come through."

Alec glances at his station, the flour covered bench and the dough for the cinnamon scrolls in the large bowl, and shakes his head. "No, I should probably finish this first. The dough has already risen, if I don't get it started now-"

"It will throw off your whole system, I know." Clary smiles kindly at him. Maybe he does like her more than he thought. "Just, consider it. Even if you just text Magnus about how your day is going." She smirks. "It constitutes as a break in my book."

"The tarts." Alec reminds her.

She salutes him with a nod, and heads out the front, careful of the tray in her hands because she isn't hopelessly and existentially distracted like he is.

Texting Magnus is honestly the _last_ thing he needs to do right now. He needs to get Magnus out of his head.

At least for five bloody minutes. Surely he can manage that.

Alec is rolling the dough for the scrolls, steady and sure and for once, thankfully, he's not actually thinking about Magnus. Not enough to be distracting, anyway.

He's pouring his energy and his attention and all of his entire focus into the scrolls and it's working out pretty well for him. That is, until the text from Magnus that just reads _**'Good morning, sweetheart x'.**_

He wipes his hand on a nearby cloth and holds his thumb down on the home button, waiting for his screen to unlock. He's only expecting the message, and he's about to reply when a new message comes in, complete with an attatchment that Alec is not expecting.

It's a selfie, an early morning, just-woke-up-a-second-ago image, and it's too much. Magnus, his Magnus, with sleep-rumpled hair and a bare, soft face, eyes half-lidded with the world's gentlest smile. To make matters worse, Chairman Meow is curled up on Magnus' chest, his head tucked under Magnus' chin, and the whole picture is just too cute. For a moment, Alec genuinely believes that his heart has arrested in his chest.

In the moment, Alec being caught up the way he is, he doesn't notice, well, anything around him.

This including the ball of dough in his hand that he promptly drops, around the time his heart momentarily stops beating.

Thankfully, most of the flour only gets on his shirt, and what gets elsewhere, like on his arms and neck, he's able to wipe off. His shirt is already dirty, so he doesn't worry too much about that, knowing it will only get worse as the day goes on, and the flour in his hair is just becoming a new amateur fashion trend.

He does, however, spend a good few minutes just resting his forehead against the cool metal of the bench. It causes him to stand in a rather bent and awkward position, but he needs something to cool him down.

He sends Magnus back a quick text, once he manages to regain the strength to lift his head up. _**'Good morning, Mags. Nice to see you've joined the land of the living. x'**_

He then turns his phone onto silent and moves it down to the other side of the bench, because he needs to finish the scrolls, and if no one else is free, slide the tea cake into the oven before the morning-tea rush.

He's already covered in flour, blueberry juice, and cake batter. Surely he can't make anymore of a mess of himself.

Later that night, when Alec finally gets home, and into the shower to clean off the various things that have stuck to him, he's not alone.

He's in the company of the man who thinks he looks _'particuarly delicious'_ all messy and rumpled and dusted with flour. The man he loves - the man who, somehow, loves him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I don't get to your comments this week, please don't feel disheartened! I'm heading on a road trip with my parabatai and as such won't have a chance to really get back on here until some time next week. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Vulturemonem who encouraged me to write a coffee shop AU literally months ago. It's taken a little longer than i expected, but I hope it fits the expectations of the AU. 
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://killjoyrow.tumblr.com/)


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